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“Jeanne thought she saw the tace of the angel/’ 


Page 19. 





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DANA ESTES & COMPANY 


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CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE, 

Jean TSToH. 



The wind was blowing very 
fiercely and bringing with it 
heavy, copper -coloured clouds, 
evidently full of snow. The 
ground was already covered 
with a thick white carpet, 
which crackled under the 
wooden sabots of little Jeanne 
Briguez as she struggled up 
the steep path leading to the 
Chateau de Kerouailles. She 
carried a basket in one hand, 
while with the other she tried 
to hold the ends of a white 
woollen scarf round her. This 
was rather difficult, for the 
wind seemed inclined to play 
pranks with the poor little maiden, and while he twisted 
one end of her scarf out of her hand and nearly pulled off 
her cloth cap, her apron flew up before her eyes, she 
stumbled against a projecting reck and dropped her basket! 
The contents rolled out on the ground, and alas I the twelve 
precious new-laid eggs were broken. When Jeanne saw this 


6 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


disaster she covered her head with her apron and began to 
cry piteously. 

“ What has happened, petite ? Ah, I see you have 
broken your eggs ! Well, never mind ; that is not a great 
misfortune,” said a clear sweet voice that made Jeanne 
pull her apron down, and look up in astonishment. 

A girl stood before her, a few years older than herself 
— about twelve years old; dressed, as Jeanne even in 
her trouble observed, all in blue and white, just as she 
herself was. But she was not a peasant ; no, the dark 
biue hat shaded a delicately fair face that had evidently 
been protected from rough weather ; long soft golden curls 
fell over her velvet coat, and her hands were tucked in a 
white fur muff. 

Jeanne stood gazing at this vision, too bewildered to 
answer, until the sight of the broken eggs reminded her 
of her distress, and the tears began again to trickle down 
her rosy cheeks. 

A lions f don’t cry. Where were you going with your 
basket?” asked the beautiful child. 

Jeanne sobbed out that her mother was sending those 
eggs to the Chdteau^ where Xante Babette was cook, and 
she had promised her two francs, for eggs were very 
difficult to get, and mother was to get some meat for 
the Jour de NoH. In fact, now they would have no 
dinner at all : for father had hurt his hand cutting wood, 
and had not earned any money for some time — oh, dear ! 
oh, dear! — and the rent was owing, and now Xante Babette 
would be angry and would not buy any more eggs. 

“ But I can give you the two francs. I have a franc 
and Jean has another, I am sure,” said the little lady. 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 7 

turning to a tall, slim boy whom Jeanne had not before 
noticed. 

He pulled out his purse and emptied it into his sister’s 
hand. 



Only three half-francs, Yolande ; that is all I have with 
me,” he said, and Jeanne observed his voice had the same 
clear, musical sound as Yolande’s. 


8 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


“ So now you will not have to go up to the Chateau, 
and that is lucky for you, little one, because the snow is 
beginning to fall, and you are not very well protected 
from it. Have you not a warm cloak like the peasants 
usually wear?” 

“ No, Mam’selle,” said Jeanne, curtseying and blushing with 
pleasure as the coins were put into her hand “ Mother 
was saving up the money to buy me a blue one, for I 
am voiiee — that is, to wear no colours but blue and white 
till I am seven years old ; but she was obliged to spend 
it while father was ill — and now there is the rent Thank 
you kindly. Monsieur and Mam’selle. May God reward you 
for your goodness !” she added, shyly. 

“ Oh, it is nothing I Goodbye little what is your 

name ?” 

“Jeanne Briguez.” 

“ And where do you live ?” 

“In that cottage on the side of the hill there.” 

“Quite up that steep path?” 

“Yes, Mam’selle.” 

“ Well, you must run home, before the snowstorm comes 
on, or you will be lost, little Jeanne ; you have a good way 
to go — and don’t cry any more,” said Yolande, kindly. 

“Think of Jean Noel: perhaps he may pay you a visit,” 
added the boy, smiling at the little peasant’s round eyes 
“ I hear he is about this part of the country.” 

Jeanne opened her brown eyes wider than ever at this, 
and, dropping a curtsey, set off running in the direction of 
the lonely cottage where she lived with her parents. 

Her mother was standing at the door, and was surprised 
and delighted to see her back so soon, for the snow was 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 9 

beginning to fall quite fast by this time, and she was afraid 
Jeanne would have been caught in the storm. 

“Oh, mother!” cried Jeanne, “I dropped the basket and 
broke all the eggs, so I did not go on. But stop, mother 1 
don’t be unhappy 1” as the poor woman threw up her hands 



in despair ; “ look here 1” and Jeanne turned out the money 
from her pocket. “ I met a lovely little lady, all in blue ■ 
just like me 1” 

“Like you! Is the child mad?” exclaimed the mother, 
bewildered. 

“No, I mean dressed like me; no, not like me,” huiried 


10 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


on Jeanne, too excited to arrange her ideas, “but all in blue, 
only her coat was velvet — oh, so beautiful ! — and she had 
the loveliest golden hair, and silk stockings, and blue eyes, 
and kid boots !” 

Madame Brignez could not help laughing at Jeanne’s 
mixed-up description. 

“ And what happened ? Did she speak to you ? Did 
she give you the money?” 

“Yes, mother,” and Jeanne related the whole adventure; 
in fact, her mother heard of nothing else all the time she 
was preparing the supper. 

“ It must have been the little Countess Yolande and her 
brother. Babette said the children were to arrive before the 
rest of the family. That was why she was so anxious to 
have the eggs. What a pity they were broken ! But don’t 
trouble yourself, ma fille, I know you could not help that” 

“Mother, who is Jean Noel?” 

“Jean Noel! Oh, that is an old tale! I remember my 
grandmother used to tell me about him. It is a legend that 
he is heard singing in the mountains about Christmas time, 
and generally comes to some poor cottage — sometimes in 
the form of an old man, sometimes as a little child. If 
the people are kind and receive him well they do not 
regret it, for he brings happiness and love with him. But 
it is a tale, mon ettfant^ so don’t be troubling your head 
about him. The little Count was joking, that was all.” 

“But is Jean Noel an angel, then, mother?” enquired 
little Jeanne in an awestruck tone, fixing her big, serious 
dark eyes on her mother’s face. 

“Yes, that’s it,” answered her mother; “and angels 
won’t go where the people are bad, so it is only thos« 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


II 


who try to do their duty that Jean Noel ever visits, my 
grandmother said.” 

Jeanne pondered deeply over this, until her father came 
in, looking like a snow man, so covered was he from head 
to foot. 

“It is lucky it does not thaw yet, or I don’t know how 
I should have got home,” he said, shaking the snow from 

his bioad - brimmed hat 
and out of his long hair. 
“ Ah, soup, that is good ! ” 
as his wife placed a bowl 
before him, with a piece 
of black bread. 

Jeanne was longing to 
tell him of her meeting, 
but he looked so wearied 
and sad that she did not 
like to begin till he had 
rested awhile. 

Eh bien! Pierre, did 
you see Maitre Rigoux ?” 
asked his wife. 

“Yes ; he says the 
money must be paid by 
the first of January or 
we must turn out, as he has another tenant willing to pay 
more rent” 

“ Oh, Pierre ! after your father and grandfather having 
always lived here ! I am sure the Count would not turn 
us ouf. If we could only let him know!” 

“ Ay, that’s just it — but we can’t ; and, what’s more 



12 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 



there’s no chance of our getting the money. I went round 
everywhere I could think of, to see if any wood was wanted, 
but only got an order from the Doctor for a few logs.” 

“If only Jean Nod could come!” thought little Jeanne. 
“ What a pity those olden times were past when her great- 
grandmother was alive and such things happened I” 

She was very silent and 
thoughtful all the evening, knit- 
ting diligently away at her stock- 
ing, till her mother sent her off 
to bed. 

The next morning Jeanne was 
up early, searching eagerly in the 
hen-house for eggs. 

“ Mother I mother I here are 
three eggs ? Shall I take them 
up to Tante Babette ? They 
would make a little omelette for 
the young Countess.’^ 

“Yes, dear child, you shall 
go with them ; it is a 
nice bright morning.” 

Jeanne was soon 
ready, and started on 
her way. She had a * 
project in her little head, and was wondering how she could 
manage to carry it out If she only had the courage 1 At 
last she reached the big iron gates of the old Chateau, and 
managed to pull the bell by standing on tip-toe and holding 
on to the chain with both hands. It nearly lifted her off 
her feet, but she heard the clanging in the distance and the 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


13 


click of the bolt as it was drawn up a few minutes after, 
and, pushing open the heavy gate, she trotted round to the 
back entrance and entered the big kitchen. 

“Well, you little Good-for-Nothing,” said Tante Babette, 
her broad face beaming at the sight of her niece. “Where 
are my eggs, I should like to know? A pretty person your 
mother is to promise me some. Let me see what you have 



there. Three ! Why, have you come up all this way to 
bring me those ? Bah — and I wanted them last night ! Get 
along with you !” and Babette pretended to walk off in great 
indignation. 

“ But, Tante Babette, listen to me,” pleaded Jeanne, 
holding on to her aunt’s thick woollen skirt. She then 
related her adventure of the day before. 


4 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


Oh, ho ! that was it, eh ? Well, I suppose I mustn't 
scold,” said Babette. “ Here, petite^ I dare say you have not 
had much of a breakfast,” and she pushed Jeanne into a 
chair and gave her a bowl of warm milk and a piece of 
white bread, which was a great treat to the child. Jeanne 
chattered away, asking no end of questions about the little 
Countess, and told her aunt the trouble her father was in 
about his rent 

“Dear Aunt Babette, can’t you ask M. le Comte to let us 
stay in the cottage?” she begged. 

“ My dear, I never see the Count ; and I don’t suppose 
he knows anything about the cottage. Maitre Rigoux 
arranges all that ; the Count doesn’t trouble himself about 
such things.” 

Jeanne sat silent and troubled. 

“If the little Countess Yolande would speak about it,” 
she said hesitatingly, at last. “Would she listen to me if 
I asked her?” 

Babette looked grave. “Well, that is not a bad idea, 
I will go and ask Fanchette, the maid, if Mam’selle Yolande 
is willing to speak with you.” 

Jeanne felt very frightened while her aunt went to make 
the enquiry. 

“ It would make father and mother so happy,” she said 
to herself, to keep up her courage. She had been longing 
for this opportunity all the time of her walk to the Chateau, 
and now it had, perhaps, come, she felt her heart sink. 

Babette returned, smiling. 

“ The Mam’selle will see you, ma petite. Now, remember 
to curtsey prettily.” 

Jeanne got up and followed her aunt, holding a bit of her 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


15 

gown as they went up the stone staircase, and stopped at 
the door of a room in one of the round towers. Babette 
tapped at the door. 

"Come in,” said the sweet voice Jeanne remembered. 
Babette opened the door and pushed in her trembling little 
niece. 

"Good morning, little onel” said Yolande, smiling kindly 

her. 



Jeanne dropped a curtsey and stood twisting the corner 
of her apron, not knowing how to begin her story. She 
thought Yolande looked like an angel or a fairy as she stood 
there, her golden hair falling over her shoulders, and dressed 
in a white woollen frock and blue ribbons. 

" Come and have some bon-bons, and would you like 
to see my doll?” 


i6 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


Jeanne gazed in awe and admiration at the wonderful 
doll, dressed all in satin, which held an eye-glass in her 
hand, and could walk and turn her head, and she felt she 
ought to curtsey to such a fine lady. Yolande’s brother 
was in the room, but was apparently absorbed in studying 
some old books, and did not come forward. After a little while, 
encouraged by Yolande’s gentle, gracious ways, Jeanne made 


¥ 



an effort to tell her trouble about the cottage. Yolande 
listened with great attention, and promised to speak to her 
father as soon as she could. 

“He is not yet arrived ; but I will not forget, little 
Jeanne.” 

“Thank you, thank you, Mam’selle!” said Jeanne, her 
brown eyes shining as she made her best curtsey. 

What a delightful secret she had ! It trembled on the 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


17 


tip of her tongue a dozen times that day, as she followed 
her mother about the cottage, helping to clean all the pots 
and pans, and get all in order for the Fite de Noel. There 
was a small piece of salt pork in the larder and a new 
loaf of rye bread, which her mother had been to the 
market to buy. How hard they both worked, and how 

bright and clean everything looked ! The logs crackled 
merrily on the hearth when her father came home that 

evening. 

“ It is just coming on to snow again, and it is very 
cold. We are fortunate to have a roof to shelter us this 
bitter weather. God help those who are not so well off!’ 
he remarked, as he drew his chair to the table. 

“If only we had the money for the rent, Pierre!” said 

his wife, anxiously. “ Who knows, but soon we may be 

out in the cold, homeless !” and she wiped her eyes with 
her apron. 

“ Don’t go to meet misfortune, ma bonne ! It is bad 
enough when it comes,” said Pierre, sadly. 

“But, mother ” began Jeanne eagerly, when her father 

held up his hand and said, “Hark!” 

A clear, sweet voice sounded through the night air, 
singing the well-known Christmas hymn : — 

“H est le divin Enfant, 

Jouez, hautbois ; resonnez, musettes, 

II est nd, le divin Enfant, 

Chantons tous son avenement. 

"Depuis plus de quatre mille ans, 

Nous le promettaient les prophHes; 

Depuis plus de quatre mille ans, 

Nous attendions cet heureux temps 


i8 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


“Ah ! qu’il est beau, qu’il est charmant, 

Ah ! que ses graces sent parfaites — 

Ah! qu’il est beau, qu’il est charmant, 

Qu’il est doux, ce divin Enfant 

“Une Stable est son logement, 

Un peu de paille est sa couchette, 

Une Stable est son logement, 

Pour un Dieu, quel abaissement ! 

“II veut nos coeurs, il les attend, 

II vient en faire la conquete; 

II veut nos coeurs, il les attend, 

Qu’ils soient k lui dbs ce moment 1 

“O Jdsus, 6 Roi tout- puissant, 

Tout petit enfant que vous etes; 

O J^sus, 6 Roi tout-puissant, 

Regnez sur nous entibrement.” 

“Who can it be, out so late, on such a night!” 
exclaimed Madame Briguez. 

Pierre put the light in the window, so that it could be 
seen. “ That will guide whoever it is,” he said. A few 
minutes later a tap was heard at the cottage-door. Pierre 
opened it at once, and there stood a slight, fair boy, dressed 
in the costume of the country. He held a horn, or cornette^ 
in his hand, like the shepherds used to call in their flocks, 
and was sheltered from the cold by his warm, thick cloak. 
He asked if he could have hospitality for the night, in Bretor 
dialect, but with a different accent to what Pierre was 
accustomed 

“Enter, enter; you are just in time!” said Pierre, heartily. 

' The boy came in, thanking gratefully. He took off his 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


19 

hat, and as the wood fire blazed up, Jeanne thought she 
saw the face of the angel in the painted window of the 
old church. His large clear blue eyes had the same 
sweet pensive expression, and his fair hair waved back 
from his forehead like an aureole of pale gold. He stretched 
out his slender white hands to the fire and shivered 
slightly. 

“You are not accustomed to be out in the cold, sir?” 
observed Jeanne’s mother, feeling she was not speaking to a 



common shepherd-boy. There was something mysterious 
about the stranger that impressed them all. 

“No, I do not often visit the hills at this hour,” he 
answered, smiling. “ I am fortunate to have fallen in with 
kind folks.” 

“We are only too happy to be able to shelter you,” said 
Madame Briguez ; “ you are just in time for supper, I am 
about to prepare it” 

Pierre told his wife, privately, to cook the meat. “For we 


20 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


don’t often have a guest, and we must treat him to the best 
we have.” 

“Yes, yes, you are right, Pierre,” and the good woman 
bustled about, and Jeanne helped to lay the cloth and peel 
the potatoes. 

The guest, meanwhile, talked to Pierre, asking him how 
long he had lived in the cottage, and who was his landlord , 
not in an inquisitive or impertinent way, but with real interest 
Pierre felt wonderfully confidential, and found himself, contrary 
to his usual habit with strangers, relating all his misfortunes 
to the youth. 

“Will you not take off your heavy cloak?” enquired 
Madame Briguez, as she came to tell them the supper was 
ready. 

“ No, thank you,” he answered. 

It was a very small bit of meat, and Madame Briguez had 
only one mouthful, but she carefully concealed this fact from 
the rest, and helped the young stranger bountifully. He was 
evidently hungry, and enjoyed the simple fare, to the great 
delight of his entertainers. After supper he sang several 
more songs, most of them relating to the Christmas festival, 
bringing tears to the eyes of Jeanne and her mother as he 
sang of the weary journey to Bethlehem, and no room at the 
inn for the travellers. 

Jeanne could have sat at his feet all night, gazing at that 
beautiful fair face, and listening to that sweet voice, but the 
boy himself began to look pale and tired, and Madame Briguez 
made him up a bed near the warm hearth. Jeanne clambered 
up into her little room in the loft to dream of the wondrous 
guest All sorts of fancies crowded into her head. He was 
again sitting at the table, and his cloak slid from his shouldersi 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


21 


and Jeanne was not the least surprised to see he was all in 
glittering white robes. Then two large wings opened out and 
bore him away, while the light from his golden hair shone 



round him like a glorious halo. ** Mother, mother, it is Jean 
Noel — he is going!” she tried to call out in her sleep, and 


22 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE 


Started up in bed, to find she was only dreaming after all. 
Still, was not that the door she heard softly closing? It was 
still dark, and Jeanne lay down again to dream once more 
of the visitor, till she heard her mother’s voice calling to her 
to get up. Jeanne rubbed her eyes, and then tumbled out of 
bed and dressed herself as quickly as she could. Her father 
and mother were standing in the kitchen looking rather 
astonished to find their visitor of the evening before, gone! 

“ He might have waited to say goodbye and thank you, 
at least,” said Madame Briguez, as she pulled the coverlet off 
the bed. 

“Why, Pierre I Jeanne! what is this?” she exclaimed. 

Under the coverlet lay a beautiful little blue cloak, just the 
size for Jeanne, with a paper pinned on it — “For Jeanne 
Briguez.” But this was not all ; a paper lay folded on the 
bed, addressed to Pierre Briguez. Pierre opened it, and what 
was his astonishment to find inside the packet several gold 
pieces (more than enough to pay the whole year’s rent), and 
the words — “From Jean Noel.” 

“ The good God has sent an angel to help us 1 ” exclaimed 
Madame Briguez, as soon as she could speak. 

“Yes, indeed, let us thank Him,” cried Pierre, falling on 
his knees. 

“Oh, mother, mother, it is what the little Comte said, it 
was really Jean Noel who came to visit us,” said little Jeanne 
in a tone of awe. “ He flew away to Heaven in the night ; 

I saw him go with bis beautiful white wings, and I thought 
it was a dream.” 

“ It seems to me as if we must be dreaming now,” said 
her mother, rubbing her eyes hard, and expecting to see the 
gold and the cloak vanish as quickly as they had appeared. 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


23 


But no, they remained, and Jeanne nearly cried for joy to 
think she should have such a lovely cloak to wear in church 
on the next day, the Jour de Noel. 

And yet more ! In the afternoon, Babette’s broad, good- 
tempered face and stout figure filled up the doorway, and 
from under the ample cloak produced a basket full of good 
, things. 

“ Madame la Comtesse 
arrived yesterday with Monsieur, 
and this morning Mam’selle 
Yolande comes running to the 
kitchen. ‘ Dear Babette,* says 
she, in her pretty way that 
would make a stone do any- 
thing she wished, ' Maman says 
you are to get a big basket, 
and I may put in whatever I 
like, to send to those good folks 
in the cottage there. * * Very 

well, Mam’selle,’ says I, ‘only 
please leave something for the 
dejeuner.’ She flitted here and 
there, and would have filled 
half-a-dozen baskets with cro- 
quettes and sweet dishes, and 
such like. At last I persuaded her to let me put in what I 
knew would be more useful, and here I am, and pretty heavy 
the basket is, I assure you. Ouf!” And Babette, who was 
not much accustomed to trot up and down the steep, rocky 
path, sat down and wiped her face, while Jeanne and her 
mother emptied the basket, exclaiming at the splendid feast 



24 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


A roast capon, a large piece of bacon, a huge galette that 
made Jeanne’s eyes shine, a cream cheese, a big white loaf, 
and a bottle of wine ! And now they had their joyful news 
to tell of the mysterious visitor of the evening before. Babette 
shut her mouth, looked very wise and nodded her head, but 
said nothing. 

“ Did you ever hear of such a thing happening before, 
Babette ?” enquired Madame Briguez. 

“ Heard of it ! ay, many a time, but it’s the first time 
I ever came across the fact,” replied Babette, looking deeply 
thoughtful. 

She gazed at the gold pieces and the cloak with a puzzled 
expression. Madame Briguez made some coffee, and, after 
Babette had had a good rest and delighted them all with 
her stories of the doings at the Chateau, Pierre walked 
back with her, talking of the happy ending of his troubles. 


But at the Chateau was this appearance of Jean Noel 
as great a mystery as at the cottage ? We must go back 
a little in the story, and see what happened after Jeanne’s 
visit to Yolande. The rosy, eager face of the child had 
only just disappeared from the doorway, when Yolande’s 
brother jumped up and came forward from the back of 
the room, exclaiming : 

“ Yolande, how delightful ! It is just what I was wishing 
for !” 

“What is delightful, Jean? Come quickly, and tell me.” 

Jean came up to the big fireplace where Yolande was 
sitting. “ I have an idea,” continued Jean ; “ a secret.” 

“ Oh, delicious !” cried Yolande. “ Is it anything about 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 25 

helping our dear little Jeanne? That is what I would most 
like to hear.” 

“ Yes, that is just the very thing. You remember I told 



her that Jean Noel was somewhere about. I thought of 
it then, but only to take some good things to eat, in a 


26 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


basket, and leave it at the cottage-door. Now^ I think we 
can do more. I have my Breton costume here, that I wore 
at the fancy dress ball in Paris. Wouldn’t it be fun for me 
to dress up in it, and act the part of Jean Noel myself? 
I have just been reading up some of the old Christmas 
songs in that book, and while Jeanne was talking to you, 
I made up the whole plan.” 

Yolande listened with the deepest interest. 

“ If only papa will allow me,” went on Jean. “ I did 
not come forward, so that Jeanne should not recognize 
me. The other day her eyes were so full of tears she scarcely 
saw me, and then the dress will make a great difference. 
If papa would only let me take some money for their rent !” 

“ We must both beg him to let us help them, and I do 
so wish to give Jeanne a warm cloak. What a lovely plan ! 
I wish I could go with you, but that would spoil all. How 
soon will papa and mamma be here, I wonder? Let us 
get out your costume and try it on, Jean.” 

“Better not, in case some of the servants see me in it, 
and they might talk. We must keep it quite secret. We 
can practice some of the songs, though. Come and play 
some of the tunes, Yolande, and let us arrange what we 
can say to papa. I am sure mamma will help us.” 

When the Count and Countess arrived, the children lost 
no time in relating their meeting with the little peasant girl, 
and her visit to the Chateau. 

“Dear papa,” said Yolande, “if you had only seen the 
good, little woman ! She was so frightened at first, she could 
hardly speak ; but, when she thought of her poor parents, 
she begged so earnestly for you to let them stay in the 
cottage ; and she had such big brown eyes, I am sure you 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


27 


would have promised her anything she wanted — and it will 
make me so happy !” added Yolande, as she laid her soft 
cheek against her father’s arm, caressingly. 

“ But, my dear child, I cannot afford to let all my peasants 
live rent free, and I must not favour one because his little 
daughter has big brown eyes. I should soon have no home 
for you, much less any Christmas or New Year gifts.” 



" But I don’t want any New Year’s gift. I have so many 
things,” coaxed Yolande. 

“Not the watch you wished for so much?” asked the 
Count 

Yolande hesitated one instant She certainly did long very 
much for a watch of her own ; but the tempation soon passed. 

“ I would rather have the money to give Jeanne, papa," 
she said, gravely. 


28 ' CHRlSTMAb IN FRANCE. 

“ And, father, you said I might choose my birthday present,” 
put in Jean, eagerly ; “ and I want you to allow me two or 
three hours to do just what I like in.” 

“ Poor boy ! he is never allowed to do what he likes,” 
smiled the Countess. 

“ Oh, mamma, I did not mean that ! but I will explain,” 
answered Jean ; and proceeded to unfold his plan of visiting 
the cottage. It needed some persuasion before Jean’s father 
and mother would consent to his going out in the cold and 
dark, but the united entreaties of Yolande and himself at 
last prevailed, and they both entered heartily into the plan. 
Yolande went with her mother to buy the little cloak for 
Jeanne, and they both helped to dress up Jean and arrange 
the packets. 

“The price of Yolande’s watch and of the pony you were 
to have had, Jean, will be quite enough for the year’s rent, 
I should think. Old Babette says the Briguez are honest 
and industrious people, but the accident to Pierre’s hand has 
been the cause of their poverty this year,” said the Count, as 
he gave the money to Jean. “ Baptiste is to go with you, 
but he will leave you near the cottage, and will be waiting 
outside with a lantern an hour or two after. He will keep 
the secret, I am sure.” 

Yolande carefully pinned the little blue cloak for Jeanne 
inside Jean’s warm thick one. 

“Don’t forget, and take it off, Jean!” she entreated. 

“No fear. I don’t suppose they will have much of a 
fire ; I shan’t be too warm,” said Jean, who was in high 
glee as he set off on his expedition, his mother^s kiss on 
his brow, and her gentle, “God bless and protect you, my 
darling boy’' I” in his thoughts. 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


29 


Yolande nestled close against her father’s side, picturing 
to herself Jeanne’s delight and bewilderment when they found 
the cloak and the mysterious packet of money, and the 
astonishment of Pierre and his wife, who would not understand 
it at all, for Jeanne was to say nothing of her request to 
Yolande 



“Oh, I am so happy !’* cried Yolande, her blue eyes shining 
as she embraced her father and mother, and then ran to the 
window to watch for Jean’s return, longing to hear his account 
of the visit to the Briguez. 

It was past nine o’clock before the sound of the cornette was 
heard announcing Jean’s approach, and Yolande flew down the 


30 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


broad stone staircase and stood waiting at the hall-door to 
welcome him. She seized his hand, and they both ran back to 
the warm sitting-room, where their parents were waiting, and 
they all sat round the blazing wood fire, and listened to Jean’s 
description of his visit to the cottage. 


What a rosy, happy little face it was, that appeared 
above the warm blue cloak as Jeanne trudged soberly along 
to church the next morning beside her father and mother, 
her own little prayer-book carefully wrapped up in a clean 
pocket-handkerchief. The old church was full, and Jeanne 
was too small to see much at first when they went in, but 
she looked up at the painted window, and her favourite angel 
seemed to smile down at her. 

Presently her mother whispered, “ Look, Jeanne, up there 
near the chancel, there is the family of the Comte.” 

Jeanne gazed eagerly, hoping to catch a glimpse of the 
little Countess Yolande. Yes, there she was ; her large felt hat 
with its feathers, the thick soft coat and long fur boa, all pure 
white like the snow outside, setting off her fair face and golden 
hair, on which the sun was shining from the window behind. 

Beside her sat her brother, and — was Jeanne dreaming 
again? — he had the same face and waving golden hair as 
their angel visitor. Jeanne pinched her fingers to make sure 
she was awake, and could hardly wait patiently till the service 
was over to ask her mother if she also saw the resemblance. 
The Briguez family waited outside the church to exchange 
greetings with their friends, and watch for the coming out 
of the Count’s family. They were walking, and acknowledged 
the salutations of the peasant-folk by bows and smiles. The 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


31 


two children were behind their parents, and Jeanne’s heart 
beat fast when Yolande stopped in front of her, and after 
Madame Briguez had thanked her for the basket of good 
things, Yolande said : — 

“Well, little Jeanne, did not my brother speak truth when 
he told you that Jean Noel was expected?” 

“Ah, Mam’selle, did Xante Babette tell you?” asked 
Jeanne, eagerly. 



Yolande laughed, and Madame Briguez, who had been 
looking earnestly at the brother, exclaimed — 

“ Ah, I see now, it was the little Count himself that came, 
and not Jean Nod at all! How can we thank you. Monsieur,” 
she continued, seizing his hand and kissing it. “You have 
indeed brought happiness to us all, and you too, Mam’selle.” 
“But stay, ma bonne, it was really Jean Nod, that is my 


32 


CHRISTMAS IN FRANCE. 


name, to-day is my fete,” said the young Count, laughing 
merrily. 

“ May you always be as happy as you have made us. But 
your parents, were they not alarmed?” 

“ No, indeed, it was with their permission I acted my part 
Goodbye now, little Jeanne, and do not forget Jean Noel,’» 
he added, as they ran off after their parents, leaving Jeanne 
not knowing whether to feel glad or sorry to find that 
her Jean Noel was a real live person. 

“Just fancy, Pierre, the little Count himself! To eat our 
poor food and sleep on the hard bed ! ” exclaimed Madame 
Briguez in amazement. 

“ It was the best we had, wife, and he knew that, and took 
it as it was offered, bless his good heart! He will be a great 
man some day,” answered Pierre, admiringly. “And to sing 
as he did I ” 

“But, mere,” said Jeanne, hesitating, “then it was not an 
angel after all?” 

“ I believe the child is quite disappointed ! ” said her mother, 
astonished. “ My little one, it was the good God put the kind 
thoughts in his heart, and sent him to us, just the same as if 
he was an angel come down straight from Heaven” 




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